


Straitjacket

by wildglitterwolf



Category: Once Upon A Time In Hollywood (2019)
Genre: Backstory, Developing Relationship, General Problematic 60s Thinking, Homosexuality in the 60s, M/M, Pining Idiots Who Won’t Admit They Love Each Other, Suicide contemplation, boys crying, lavender marriage, undiagnosed BPD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-10-04 07:03:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20466986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildglitterwolf/pseuds/wildglitterwolf
Summary: Somehow between 1960 and August 8th, 1969, Rick and Cliff managed to develop a relationship most people wouldn’t consider a normal friendship. Through nine years together they learn to deal with their own personal struggles with mental health, sexuality, social reputations, and how they view their relationship towards each other.





	1. Chapter 1

Nothing can bring production to a halt like unforeseen mishaps, and a stunt double going out indefinitely three episodes into a season did just that. It wasn’t even an overly dangerous stunt or spectacle scene; just a spooked horse and a bad fall that landed wrong. The crew called it quits early that day to spend time finding a replacement while Rick Dalton used it as an excuse to slip a couple extra early drinks in before rehearsing tomorrow’s scenes.

In all honesty and with no real guilt, Rick was sort of relieved. He never thought the double was a great match height and look wise, and has made his complaints verbal on more than one occasion asking for a change. Maybe a higher power finally decided to listen to him. But the thought of it being a curse also crossed his mind, as for all he knows they’ll have to grab someone a foot shorter and put him on stilts with this much short notice. 

All Rick’s worries went away when he stepped out of wardrobe and arrived on set the next morning. The new double was already in the middle of shooting the postponed scene and even at this distance Rick could tell what a massive improvement this guy was. As the scene wrapped, he colorfully expressed his gratitude towards the stunt team on the great find, and the team knew that was the highest praise they would probably ever get out of the man. Rick couldn’t even wait for the new double to dismount his horse before he turned his assault of compliments on him.

“Ah shit, they finally fucking nailed it! I-I’ve been telling them for the past two seasons they needed to find someone who actually fucking looks like me. And height! Get down here and let me have a fucking measure.”

The double stared back completely unfazed by the actor. He was warned earlier by several crew members that Rick had pretty much no filter when it came to his opinions, and if he wasn’t up to par with Rick’s standards then he’d be sure to hear about it. “Well...I wouldn’t say I’m a mirror reflection but appreciate the compliment,” he says with a nod as he dismounts with ease and stands right in front of him. 

Rick grabs the man by the shoulders and sizes him up. “Pretty much spot on, maybe just an inch shorter but a complete improvement. God damn, this is fucking exciting. Hey, h-how about you and me grab a drink this evening, my treat.”

“Well that’s awfully kind of you but I promised the wife I’d be home early this evening. Maybe another time.”

Feeling slightly embarrassed at how forward he was being after only a few exchanged sentences, Rick found himself stumbling over his thoughts. “Oh right, right. Of course you’d be married. I-I-I mean, why wouldn’t you. J-just because I live the bachelor life doesn’t- doesn’t mean it’s...it’s for everyone. And by choice! I-I could settle down if I wanted but I wouldn’t… wouldn’t be able to enjoy my booze as freely, you know?”

“I hear you,” the stunt double replied, not really sure he was fully buying Rick’s excuses but the guy seemed flustered enough and on the verge of losing it. “Hey, I think I’m free tomorrow. I’ll just tell the wife I’ve got a date with a TV cowboy. Won’t she be jealous.”

“Ah man, don’t fucking get her on my ass by saying that. I-I’m not trying to steal you or anything. You just seem like an interesting guy and truth be told, there aren’t that many on this set.” Rick really hoped he wasn’t coming off as desperate. He wasn’t the greatest at socializing, especially when sober, and friends were practically non-existent. “Anyways, I-I gotta get to my scene. Fucking hope I remember what my lines are, I just got too damn excited I can’t recall what I’m doing.”

“Alright then, better get along. Name’s Cliff Booth, by the way. Since I was always under the impression that a name exchange was a part of introductions, especially before making date plans.”

“Ah shit, sorry about that. I’m Rick. Rick Dalton.”

“Yeeaahh,” Cliff said as he gave an exaggerated look around the set and the _Bounty Law_ posters with Rick’s face and name plastered all over. “I kinda figured that out when I got the job specifically looking for Rick Dalton’s stunt double.” 

“God damnit, I’m sorry for being so off today. I swear I’m not like this all the time.”

“Well Rick, I look forward to meeting you on your ‘on day’, which is hopefully tomorrow over that drink you promised.” And with a hat tip, Cliff heads off back to wardrobe leaving Rick trying to process what just happened, and realized he’s probably getting home late tonight with how much he’s going to screw up today’s scenes. 

\--

It was the end of shooting for the current season, and even after the wrap party that lasted several hours ended, Rick and Cliff found themselves out still getting sloshed together. Much to each other’s surprise, they hit it off well enough after their first drinks together to make it a weekly thing. Sometimes if it was a rough week of shooting it would be upped to twice a week, and once it was three times after Cliff added a new scar to his growing collection. 

Rick was too young for the draft, and he could freely admit to himself he sure as hell wouldn’t have lasted. It didn’t take long for Cliff to conclude that as well based on Rick’s reaction to some of the war stories he told. He probably would have been the kind of kid he’d have to risk putting his ass on the line for more often than not. But he was also glad Rick didn’t have that innocence taken away from him, because even though Rick had celebrity and more money to his name than Cliff has ever had in his life, he found being around someone without a past like his made him feel almost normal.

“Jesus Christ, how are you not fucked up from all that you’ve been through?” Rick said completely in disbelief. Cliff had just told him a story about an ambush where he and several men were caught off-guard and Cliff, unarmed, managed to take down three on his own with his strength alone.

“What makes you think I’m not?”

“What, you get nightmares or shit? I mean, I don’t blame you if you do. I-I’d fucking piss myself every night thinking about that. Hell, I wouldn’t even be able to talk about it!”

Cliff just smiles and shrugs. “Yeah, sometimes. Not as much as I use to. But now and then something might trigger me without warning. I’m not proud of it, but it happens.”

It wasn’t lost on Cliff that he lived the kind of life Rick only pretended to have on television. His kill count far outnumbered Rick’s imaginary one and his body showed the wear and tear that was probably more than the average real cowboy actually got. And as for Rick himself, he’d often observe him trying to be the alpha dog with his demands on set but Cliff saw through that charade quick enough. Rick Dalton was hands down the most insecure person Cliff ever met, something he surely thought would bother him but he couldn’t help but be amused instead. He learned fast that Rick appeared to get off on validation, and even the smallest compliment seemed to shoot Rick’s ego straight to the moon. Sometimes Cliff said things just to get a reaction, but most of the time he actually meant what he said to what he concluded to be his own version of Pavlov’s dog. 

“Well it’s been a pleasure working with you these last few months. Don’t get to say that too often about my co-workers but you’re at the top,” Cliff says, fluffing the last bit up just to get that self-congratulatory nod out of Rick. But it wasn’t a lie, seeing as his pool of past co-workers had been relatively small so Cliff felt no guilt in saying that. “Guess I’ll be seeing you after hiatus.”

“Huh? Oh, oh yeah, hiatus,” Rick muttered, not realizing until now their new weekly tradition would be put on hold until production started up again and how much he looked forward to them. “I mean, we don’t have to stop having a drink just because we aren’t on the same fucking project for awhile, right?”

“Ah man, I’m taking the wife out of town for a bit. She seems intent on blowing my earnings for the season in a couple weeks,” Cliff says with a chuckle. “Then I got a gig on the other side of town when I get back so that commute will be brutal. I’m sure you’ll be busy with whatever you’ve got anyways, and plus you don’t want to hang out with this old guy all the time, you’ll get sick of me.”

Rick couldn’t help but feel crestfallen at this. Maybe these outings just meant way more to Rick than Cliff. And why wouldn’t they? Cliff had a life, someone to go home to, and probably more interesting things to do than hang out with him. All Rick had in his life was his seemingly endless supply of booze and insecurities. And Cliff. 

“Well ok, old buddy. Guess I'll see you when I see you.”

\--

“So I was thinking of breaking into movies as the next step in my career.”

“No kidding? Well you certainly got the face for it.” Cliff smirked when he got his predictable prideful look out of Rick. “Looking to do big budget westerns?”

“Honestly, I’d like to avoid them if I can. Fucking type casting and all. You don’t want to be type casted in this town and limit your range.”

“And you think you have range?”

“Hell yeah I do! I-I can act the fuck out of anything. Even Shakespeare if I need to.”

“Oh yeah? Why don’t you toss me some lines there, Romeo.”

“I-I didn’t say I knew any Shakespeare off hand, I just said I could. That’s why they give you scripts, so you can memorize that shit before doing it.”

Cliff just shook his head trying not to completely laugh at Rick’s possible delusions. It was crazy to him how Rick could be the most self-loathing individual one moment and then at other times a guy with enough confidence to spread around a small town. “Ok then. I guess when your career takes off I can tell everyone who will listen I use to double for the biggest movie star in the world. Won’t that be something.”

“Well I...I was thinking. I-I mean, you’re such a great match for me. I fucking can’t go back to anyone else at this rate. I’d love it if you… you’d consider going on down this trail with me.”

Cliff bit his lip as he pondered this over. He’d be lying if he said he wouldn’t miss working with the guy, and things weren’t the greatest at home between fighting with his wife over money and whatever personal issues were going on that day. Honestly his escapes to the bar with Rick were the highlight of his week by far, but he didn’t want to let Rick know that for whatever reason. “Yeah sure, why not? I’d love to keep working with you, partner.”

“Alright. Cheers, old buddy!” Rick says, grinning and clinking his whiskey sour to Cliff’s Bloody Mary and downing it. “May good fortune smile down on Rick and Cliff in Hollywood.”

“Well more so for you. I don’t think you’ll need a stunt double much for all the Shakespeare you’ll be doing.”

“God damnit, Cliff. Let it go.”


	2. Chapter 2

The Karmann Ghia sped quickly through the city with a reckless appearance to the average onlooker. And while Cliff was usually completely focused while pulling this stunt any other day, his driving was more of a sense of urgency rather than an adrenaline joy ride. He had just gotten off the phone with Rick and he didn’t sound right in his mind by his tone and language. It was the kind of thing thing he’s heard before in the war when men were completely hopeless and ready to welcome death. 

Earlier that year, Rick managed to score the lead in a movie and things were looking up for his grand leap into them. He even shot a nice amount of footage while juggling his show’s schedule. And for that reason it was a surprise to Cliff to find Rick in his trailer having one of the worst breakdowns he’s ever seen the other man have.

“They fucking fired me, Cliff. Fucking fired… a-after what, all that? And without a damn bit of warning, not a damn warning…” Rick took another swig from his flask and puffed away at his cigarette, eyes red and cheeks still tear stained and clearly not up for shooting anything today.

Cliff looked him over, trying to find the right words to comfort but also not question him any further as he got a sense there probably was a reason for Rick’s termination that he just was too embarrassed to share. “Shit, man. They’re the ones who are going to regret it. You’re too good for them. I mean hell, I bet it’ll be a failure and they’ll come back begging for forgiveness and you won’t give them the time of day because you’ll be off famous and all, partying with all the other film stars and getting laid every chance you get. It’s what, a war film you said? Probably weren’t looking for the TV cowboy type anyways.”

“They replaced me with fucking Steve McQueen.”

And so after that day, Cliff watched Rick slowly become more distracted on the _Bounty Law_ set. He was forgetting lines more often, showed up more wasted than normal, and whenever he saw McQueen’s face on anything it would set him off into a rage of swears. It had gotten bad enough that Cliff would come in on the days he wasn’t scheduled to stunt just to make sure Rick could at least function enough to get something shot for the day. 

But Cliff couldn’t be around all the time to chaperone him, as much as part of him found himself wishing he could in a way. So upon hearing the news that Screen Gems would be cancelling _Bounty Law_, he called Rick to check up on him and was now making his way to Rick’s before he did anything he’d regret. 

Cliff didn’t let up the gas until right before the driveway and slams the breaks down as the car screeches to a halt. Thankfully Rick had the tendency to leave the door unlocked and Cliff’s unceremonious entrance made the form on the couch jump enough to give Cliff some relief that he wouldn’t see the worst. “Shit, Rick. You scared me half to death with the way you were talking there on the phone. I thought you were going to do something stupid,” he says, shaking his head as he walks over but stops suddenly when he sees a gun come into view on the coffee table.

Both men locked eyes. Cliff, now realizing his concerns were valid, and Rick, also realizing Cliff knew what he was planning to do, stared at each other for what felt like an eternity before both of them made a move to reach for the gun. Cliff got there first but knocked it clear across the room not wanting to potentially get into a wrestling match with Rick over a loaded weapon. And before Rick could even begin to change direction to go after it, Cliff managed to bring him to the floor, cross both of Rick’s arms behind his back, and force all his body weight on top of him to keep him down.

“Fucking hell, Cliff! G-g-get off of me!” Rick struggled under the man all he could even though he knew it would be pointless and just wear him out.

“Yeeeaaah, don’t think so there, partner. I know exactly what you were planning, so don’t act dumb. If I need to lie on you all night as your own personal straitjacket, don’t think I won’t.”

Rick didn’t feel like arguing back as he knew it would be fruitless. Neither of them spoke a word for several minutes until the flood gates open and Rick couldn’t hold back the pain any more. Cliff just let him cry, as he knew this was a situation where none of his ego stroking compliments would make a difference with how far gone Rick was. It was a good two hours of alternating crying and silence until Rick finally passed out, and Cliff waited until he was snoring before getting off of him and going to take care of the gun and check the rest of the house for anything else that could be used as a weapon, including removing all the knives from the kitchen. Once he was sure he had everything that Rick could potentially use to harm himself, he threw it all in his trunk and locked it up. 

Thankfully, Rick was still sound asleep when he returned, and Cliff carefully lifted him off the floor and carried him to bed. He knew he should be getting home; he forgot to leave his wife a note and even wondered if she would care where he was or think he was having an affair, and to be honest, he found himself not caring if she thought either of those. With one last look to the door and one last consideration of leaving, he crawled onto the bed and resecured his position on top of Rick in case he woke up in a frantic state again, and passed out within minutes as his own emotional exhaustion caught up with him.

\--

“Why do you spend so much time with me, Cliff?”

“Hmm? Didn’t think that would be something you’d be complaining about.”

“Yeah but… fuck, Cliff. It’s me. I-I’m a fucking mess. I surely can’t be the person you enjoy wasting your God damn time with the most.”

“And if I said you were?”

“I’d say that’s a fucking lie, that’s… that’s what I’d say.”

“If you say so… but I know I’m the person you enjoy spending the most time with.”

“You’re all I got, Cliff.”

_In a way, you’re all I got, too …_

“Right. You need to go make yourself some new friends. Maybe do that while I’m gone this weekend. Taking the wife out on a boating trip so you think you can survive without me for a couple of days?”

“Shit, I’m not that hopeless without you.”

\--

This time around it was Rick making the trip out to see Cliff post phone conversation, but not with the same urgency Cliff had done for him. When Cliff told him his wife passed away while on the trip, he sounded completely normal. No real sadness to his tone, but no joy either. It was as if they were just casually discussing the weather or something else that’s insignificant. Rick tried to ask what exactly happened but Cliff was so vague on the details that Rick just concluded she must have drowned. But surely if she fell overboard Cliff could have saved her? 

Rick had never been to Cliff’s place. It was a shoddy looking apartment building that when Cliff would often tell him how much his wife complained about the place, Rick could now understood why. The inside wasn’t much better; it looked more like a bachelor pad which Rick could only assume was just a recent development as he doubt Cliff’s wife would have let it get this way from what he heard about her.

“Hey man, this is a surprise. Come on in. Can I get you a cold one?” Cliff doesn’t even wait for an answer as he knows what it will be and heads over to grab a couple beers out of the fridge.

“Yeah.. yeah. Sure. Jesus, Cliff. What the fuck happened? A-Are you okay? Y-Y-You seem completely… I.. I don’t know.”

Cliff just shrugs and comes back with the beers and flops on the couch and gestures for Rick to sit. “I’m fine, man. Really. I grieved and accepted and I’ve moved on.”

“Cliff. It’s only been two fucking days. You haven’t even had the funeral yet.”

“Yeah, well. About that. Her family doesn’t really want me involved with it. Don’t even fucking want me there. So I’ve done my bit and it’s time to move on.”

“That’s horseshit, she was your fucking wife. What in the fucking world would make them prevent you from being involved?”

Cliff just stares ahead as he casually takes a sip from his can before calmly replying. “They think I killed her.”

“Jesus Christ, Cliff. You… you didn’t, d-did you?”

Cliff stretches his jaw up and down, slowly looking up to the ceiling and stares at it for a few seconds. “What do you think?”

Rick wasn’t sure exactly. He knew Cliff was capable of murder in situations where he’s out of options, but he also didn’t believe he would murder for no reason. Rick tried to rack his mind for what in the world would make him do that before a few outrageous ideas crossed his mind and just started rambling.

“Fuck, your wife didn’t have suspicions about us, did she? I-I mean, you’ve been spending so much time at my place and with me than with her and you… you told me the excuses you gave her for being gone so often h-had nothing to do with me. As if you didn’t fucking want her to know you were with me! A-a-and then she threatened to tell everyone I’m a fucking faggot and y-you knew that would ruin my career so… so you… fucking killed her for me?” Rick was freaking out, running his hands through his hair and eyes darting nervously as if he was the one being accused of murder.

Cliff’s mouth hung open, looking completely dumbfounded by what he just heard before he falls back on the couch and starts howling with laughter. This made Rick turn a bright shade of red and smack Cliff in the chest. “What the fuck man, t-that’s not funny. I-it’s not. It’s fucking not…”

“Really? My wife ignoring the fact I might be fucking another man and would rather take her revenge out on you instead of cutting my nuts off makes me think you’re the one self-conscious about it. Are you finally admitting to me you’re a homosexual after all these years when it’s been obvious this whole time? This has been the worst kept secret you’ve never actually said out loud.”

Cliff honestly expected Rick to come back with a dozen excuses as to why Cliff was wrong. And for all Cliff knew he could be wrong, but he never found an appropriate time to ask or if he even should pry into something that private. But this situation made it too easy to slip his observation in, and Rick going quiet on him was more than telling.

“Oh, Rick…” Cliff gently grabs Rick’s face and pulls him close so he’s forced to look at him, knowing on a deeper level Rick wouldn’t try to pull away. Cliff always had his suspicions about Rick in that way. He never showed interest in any of the women when they would go out, even when Cliff would point out the ones he found attractive and suggested Rick give them a shot. And of course, he always knew Rick was genuinely the happiest when he was with him, even if he was having one of his breakdowns. Now Rick’s little detective theory and lack of rebuttal pretty much proved it.

“I’m flattered that you think my world revolves so much around Rick Dalton that I’d kill my wife for you to save your good name and destroy mine in the process.” Cliff grins and gives Rick’s forehead a kiss, which resulted in another smack to the chest from Rick.

“Fuck you, man. Seriously… fuck you.” So now Cliff knew what he tried to avoid saying all these years. And it wasn’t much longer until it was again Rick doing the crying and Cliff holding him in a tight embrace trying to calm him down in a situation Rick thought would be the other way around for once. “You’re fucking going to leave me now, right? Now that you know?” 

“I’m not going anywhere, partner. Not until you tell me to get out of your life.”

And for the first time in he couldn’t remember how long, Rick Dalton felt completely at peace with himself.


	3. Chapter 3

“I swear, if you keep breaking down in public like that you’re going to be sent to an asylum. I don’t think you’d like being in a straitjacket for real.” It was honestly the first time in awhile Cliff had to deal with an overly emotional Rick that it was more the surprise of not seeing this side in awhile than actually being upset about it.

“I-I’ve been doing real good lately, Cliff. I just… just the movie roles are getting really hard to come by. It’s just all been TV guest spots lately.”

“Well. It’s something. At least you’re getting something…”

If there was one thing Cliff wasn’t planning on, it was how quickly news would spread about his wife through the industry. He heard all kinds of theories on what happened, most of them pointing the blame on him. Soon any stunt jobs not associated with Rick became non-existent, and now Cliff was starting to wonder if Rick not getting any leading roles was partly because he insisted on using him for a double. “So what you got lined up next?”

“Some brand new show called _The Green Hornet_. I’ll be playing the heavy, like usual.”

“Well I’d like to tag along if you don’t mind. My time has been relatively free as of late and let’s see if you can get them to do a big stunt scene for me.” Part of him was worried Rick would say no for the first time, as if he also had the thought Cliff was a dark rain cloud hanging over him and the reason he was being reduced to his state as a guest star. But Rick was too loyal for that.

“Sure thing. Swing by my place in the morning. We’ll see if we can get you on.”

\--

“God damnit, Cliff. What the fuck did you do??” 

This was the first time Cliff ever saw Rick this mad at him. And Cliff’s response was just to let his eyes wander around the car and outside to avoid eye contact, feeling like a child being scolded by his mom but knowing enough to not fight back.

“I put my fucking neck on the line for you. I-I-I had to convince Randy to give you a shot. And you fucking blew it! Over what?? Because you couldn’t keep your ego in check?”

“Hey man, I told him I didn’t want any trouble. But he insisted so I just said what was on my mind and well…”

“Jesus, Cliff. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you’re not getting any work outside of what you do with me. I-I don’t know why you had such a problem with this guy but it’s not the fucking time to get all opinionated.”

Cliff nonchalantly shrugs as he leans his head against the back of the seat. Why did he have a problem? Did he really think this new martial art stuff was inferior to his form of combat? Or was he just scared. Scared that if actors were capable of doing their own stunts, he’d become completely useless. More useless than he already was. 

And then it hit him like a wave crashing down, washing away his pride and finally making him realize where he was in life. He had lost pretty much everything. No wife. No family. No job. And no friends… except Rick. Rick stayed. For whatever reason, for all the shit he’s done, he’s stayed, and he knows he’s going to stay by his side even after this.

Cliff covers his eyes with his elbow and forearm as he processes it all. He’s never cried in front of anyone before outside of his parents, and he never personally had the notion that men aren’t allowed to cry drilled into his mind. That was just something he picked up on through life. But as much as he wanted to, as much as he wanted to let loose as easily as Rick makes it look, he couldn’t. Yeah, part of him thought Rick would think less of him if he did, that he was supposed to be the strong one of the two of them. That if he broke down then that would kill all of the hope he spent the last few years building up for Rick and make him even worse off mentally than before. He couldn’t let Rick get that fucked up again.

“Yeah. You’re right. I’m sorry… I won’t come on set with you again unless they tell you I’m needed. I won’t burden you like that anymore.”

Rick didn’t reply. The two tears he saw slip out from under Cliff’s arm was enough to tell him he was serious… and that Cliff Booth, was in fact, actually human. 

\--

With Cliff’s lack of income, he left the apartment and moved in with Rick until he could sort stuff out. He wasn’t sure what skills he had to put to use outside of the film industry as his life never seemed to have much stability to explore any real career path. But he hoped to figure out something soon as he didn’t want to spend too much time around Rick at home as the endless debauchery might put to halt any real progress, as well as other reasons he kept private.

“So hear me out, Cliff. Now I-I know you’ll probably say no. But I thought I could give you a leg up. So what if I paid you to help me out with some of my stuff. You know, take care of the house, especially when I’m out of town. Help me out with getting my groceries. Handyman stuff. R-really anything that I won’t have to worry about doing when I get home from a long day and don’t feel like doing anything that’s preventing me from fucking getting to my booze sooner.”

Cliff chuckled at the proposition, not because he thought it was ridiculous, but that it was probably the job he’d enjoy best of anything else he came across. And taking care of Rick made him feel far from useless. “Yeah, sure. Why not. Kinda feels like this was always my calling anyways, taking care of your sorry ass.”

“I’m not hiring you to be my mom. Just being a-a good friend. Like you’ve a-always been to me.”

“Fair enough. I guess I can say I was wrong about what I told you after my wife died.”

“What, that you did kill her?”

“No. That my world didn’t revolve around Rick Dalton. Because you’re pretty much my whole world now that I’m in this mess.”

Rick just nods, looking away so Cliff couldn’t see blush. “You, uh… you can start tomorrow. I-I’ll have a list out on the counter of things I need done.”

And that list never got made, seeing as Rick got a little too friendly with the liquor that he passed out before he wrote it. Cliff just did what he thought Rick needed to have done, and to be honest, Rick would have forgotten to list most of those items anyways.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is just half a dozen plot points and ideas I wanted to touch on but felt didn’t need to be fleshed out a whole lot in other chapters so it’s just dialogue. Also I just wanted to speed up and get to Italy at that point so yeah.

“Hey Rick, I managed to find a place out in Van Nuys. I can get out of your hair this week.”

“That’s too far.”

“Everything would be too far for you.”

“I don’t understand why… why you can’t just stay here.”

“Really? The guy who thought I would murder my wife just so your secret doesn’t get out doesn’t see why living with another male companion isn’t a good idea? Neighbors would gossip.”

“I-it’s pretty private here. N-no one is going to fucking notice. Besides if they do, I’m fucking paying you to do shit for me.”

“Yeeaaahh, like anyone would buy that’s the reason why I’m always hanging around you.”

“Come on, Cliff. You already spend too much time here as is, they’ll gossip anyway.”

“I can’t, Rick. I just can’t. So don’t push it.”

\--

“So I was thinking about getting a dog.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I need a reason to actually go home and not stay over and get drunk every night. Defeats the purpose of not living here.”

“Oh. Right.”

\--

“Say, Rick. Do you ever think about how I’m basically your housewife? I mean, you go to work, get the paycheck, and give me my allowance. Meanwhile I’m stuck at home cleaning up after you and keeping the place from falling apart. The only difference between us and married folks is we aren’t fucking.”

‘Yes, I do, Cliff. Yes I do.”

“Well shit, okay then.”

\--

“Well it finally happened. I’m amazed it took this long for the booze to catch up with you. Ruined that lovely car of yours and now what are you going to do if you can’t drive with no license?”

“G-guess you got one more job to-to add to your chore list.”

“Shit, man. That’s a tall order. Between the commute from my place and hauling your ass all over town, and having to check on Brandy now and then, I’m gonna need a bump in my salary.”

“You can live with me, Cliff. R-really. I-I-I don’t care anymore. People will fucking forget who I am anyways soon enough.”

“Until you completely give up on this career of yours, I ain’t moving in. I believe in you, man. You’ll make it.”

“Sometimes I hate you for being a fucking optomistic asshole.”

“I know.”

\--

“Jesus, she’s way too fucking young, Cliff. Get your eyes back in your head.”

“Are we jealous now?”

“N-no, she’s too young and a God damn fucking dirty hippie on top of it.”

“What is your problem with hippies, anyways? Pretty prejudice for someone who… you know. Also gets shit on for a different lifestyle.”

“They just fucking bum around tripping out on their hallucinogens a-and live in filth. Fucking lack of hygiene. Contribute pretty much n-nothing to society.”

“Gee, man. Almost sounds like you’re describing me. Maybe I’m a hippie. Except I do shower, I know you wouldn’t stand to be around me if I didn’t.”

“Nah Cliff, you’re different. Fucking different, don’t even say that.”

“I mean, you don’t know what I do all day while you’re at work. For all you know, I’m picking them up and we’re having orgies out in the canyon.”

“Jesus, Cliff. I fucking swear you better be joking. Fucking better not be picking up any dirty hippies in this car.”

“Heh. Sure thing.”

\--

“That was Mr. Schwarz. Looks like I’m doing this God damn fucking spaghetti western after all.”

“Cool man. I guess that means you’ll need me to take care of the place while you’re gone. I think Brandy will like stretching her legs a bit in a larger place.”

“Well. A-actually. I-I need you there, Cliff. I can’t fucking do it without you. I’ll go insane.”

“I don’t know, man. I don’t know how long I can leave Brandy alone. She’s got a strict set of rules and feeding procedures to follow I don’t know if I can trust the kennel to keep her in check.”

“Cliff. Please. Don’t leave me alone over there.”

“Oh, I guess you’re right. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if I had to go a day without listening to you complain about something.”

“God damnit, Cliff.”


	5. Chapter 5

Rick and Cliff’s adventure to Italy turned out longer than expected, seeing as how Rick’s celebrity started to tick up now that he was suddenly in demand. Rick was enjoying the hell out of it, and that made Cliff happy to see. The optimism Rick often criticized him for was finally paying off, and that was a relief to Cliff as he was starting to doubt it himself. 

They stayed together in an apartment with a higher price than Cliff should probably have allowed Rick to take, but he couldn’t say no to his friend finally enjoying what he’s been striving for all these years. And since Cliff no longer had the excuse that he had to go home to Brandy, Rick made sure to keep him occupied. Rick would mostly use Cliff to recite lines with him since he didn’t bring his tape recorder, and Cliff would make it entertaining enough by using different voices like he would do. They would often pass out together in the bedroom after a long night of rehearsing and drinking, and neither of them said anything if one of them woke up to the other embraced around them. Obviously the exhaustion must have just left them that way without realizing it, and they continued to tell themselves that even as it started to become an occurrence almost every morning. Even the times they actually somehow got under the covers to properly sleep or someone had less clothing than normal, it was the mind impairments that caused it. Nothing else.

On set someone would occasionally bring newspapers from America over so they could keep up with the news. Even if they were a few days to a week late, Cliff liked keeping up with what was going on while they were away. He would take the stack home to read at the apartment while Rick was out putting on whatever heteronormative display he could with his current co-star for the paparazzi to gush over. Tonight a certain article caught Cliff’s eye - a police raid on homosexuals at some bar in New York - that he didn’t realize Rick had walked in.

“Hey, old buddy,” Rick says sleepily as he plops down on the couch besides Cliff and leans against him. “I’m fucking stuffed. I swear if I stay in this country any longer I’m going to eat the place out of everything.”

“I don’t think that would go over well with the Italians. Here, thought this might interest you.” Cliff hands him the newspaper to read, wrapping his arm around Rick’s shoulder as he prepared himself for probably an overly emotional reaction. “Looks like they’re putting up a fight now. Maybe… maybe things will get better, and you don’t have to live like this anymore, not being yourself.”

Rick’s eyes darted over the lines while Cliff tried to read him. What Rick said next was the last thing he expected Rick to ever say:

“I think I should get married, Cliff.”

Now it was Rick’s turn to try to read Cliff. He thought maybe, just maybe, he could catch Cliff, like how he caught him when he told him why he thought Cliff would have killed his wife. Maybe the idea Rick had that Cliff was willing to put up with him all these years was because he really cared for him as more than just a friend. That he really wanted to be his wife but with the fucking. And now he has given him an ultimatum of sorts to finally admit to him what Rick had desperately wished to be true all these years: that Cliff Booth loved him. The fantasies he often had of Cliff finally coming clean to him that he’s felt that way about him all this time, the fantasies of leaving Hollywood together and starting a new life without the spotlight to shun them for being with each other, they all started to swirl up in his mind as he waited for Cliff to answer. 

“Oh. Well. That makes sense now that you’re more famous and all to keep the suspicion off you. That Francesca lady is a fine looking women, if you need an opinion. And she looked interested in you. I guess I could give you pointers on sex with women if you need to be convincing.”

“... Right.”

And that was the first night in months the two men didn’t sleep in the same bed together.

\--

Cliff was lying on the couch, watching the news through half closed eyes as his cigarette hung from his mouth. Landing a man on the moon was big enough of a deal that an overseas news paper wasn’t needed to get coverage, although at this point it was the same thing on repeat but he didn’t feel like getting up to change the channel either. He had the place to himself as Rick and Francesca went on a quick honeymoon on their days off, and it was relatively quiet without hearing all the sex down the hall that he’s put up with for the past week. In his mind, Rick was over acting his part, but if the lady wasn’t complaining then he must be getting the job done well enough. 

When you’re alone and left to your own thoughts, things can start to eat on you. And Cliff wasn’t dumb; he knew excatly the reaction Rick was trying to get out of him when he said he was thinking about getting hitched. But Cliff always had one job he took seriously when it came to Rick above all others and that was not to let anything get in the way of him reaching fame and success. Not even him. However, a couple weeks have passed and he has clearly seen and felt what being overprotective of Rick’s secret had done to both of them: they were both downright fucking miserable.

Yes, Cliff loved Rick. It took awhile to finally admit it to himself, but he did. He didn’t understand why early on, and wasn’t sure if he bought into this bisexual idea, either. Whenever he’d question it after being out with Rick, he’d go home and fuck his wife to make sure there wasn’t any reason to believe being around a homosexual was contagious in any form. No, he enjoyed fucking pussy. Still does. But there was no emotional attachment to any of the women in his life that could hold a candle to the way Rick Dalton made him feel. Even without sex, he got so much more satisfaction from his relationship with Rick than his own marriage. Maybe he just valued friendship more than fucking. 

But there was also a fear of rejection Cliff realized he had some time later. Just because your best friend is into men doesn’t mean you’re their type, and to fall in love with him only for him to say he only sees you as a friend, well… he couldn’t risk ruining their friendship on the chance that Rick might have felt the same.

And then Cliff realized he never considered actually fucking Rick, probably in part due to his worry that maybe he really was a homosexual all this time. He shrugs to himself and closes his eyes, concentrating on imagining Rick as best he could recall from the times he’s seen him close to naked as he got. Rick, above him, skin glowing with sweat and moaning softly as Cliff slowly thrusts up into him. Rick, head buried in his neck, whispering Cliff’s name over and over as he digs his nails into his sides. Rick-

“Fuck, shit, fuuuuckk,” Cliff yells as he suddenly jolts back to reality, only then realizing his hand had found its way into his pants without his knowledge. He couldn’t recall a time where he came that quickly, and the sticky mess he felt all over his hand and his clothes left evidence confirming his fears.

“I made a huge fucking mistake.”

He spent the rest of the night chain smoking away the rest of his pack and cried more than all the tears he’s ever shed in his life put together. He was grateful that Rick was not around to see as he’d probably say it was Cliff who should be sent to the asylum for putting himself through this misery. And maybe Rick would be right, because who in their right mind would let this act carry on for almost nine years? 

\--

_Can’t afford_

That’s what Rick told him. He can’t afford him anymore. And while Rick might make it sound like he can’t afford to pay him, he knew what it really meant. Rick couldn’t emotionally afford to be around him with Francesca in the picture. She already thought it was weird this guy spent so much time around her husband, and every moment the three of them were together, Cliff could sense his uneasiness. Yes, Rick was an actor, but even when you’re the best it’s hard to perform when you’re distracted, which Cliff knew he was: a distraction. He had his chance to be Rick’s wife for years; he wasn’t about to settle for being his mistress just because he couldn’t admit his feelings when he had all the time in the world to.

So Cliff gave them their space as much as possible and tried to remain hidden in the shadows. He knew this was for the best as he would eventually have to get use to life without Rick, other than maybe occasionally seeing him for holidays and such if they were kind enough to invite him over. Well, at least until the story that he killed his wife fell on Francesca’s ears.

Finally the day came when Rick was out of projects and decided it was finally time to return to Los Angeles. He had started to wonder if he was better off than where he was six months ago. He got his fame but he felt like he lost everything else in the process and might actually go broke over it. Only this time, it won’t be Cliff picking up his pieces for him.

“Hey, old buddy. I-I was thinking when we land, we go out one last time. L-like we use to. We’ll probably n-not get many chances to again in the future and I-I already ran it by the wife and she figures she’s not up to anything after the flight.”

“Sounds good. I’ll be looking forward to it.”

Cliff watched Rick and Francesca leave as their flight called for first-class boarding. He wondered how long they would last and if she would ever catch on that Rick didn’t quite fancy women in that way. Or maybe she knew but the idea of living in Hollywood was too much of a dream to pass up that she’d put up with it. Cliff couldn’t help but be almost hopeful that maybe she’d take one step off that plane and realize this wasn’t the life for her and head back Italy, after signing divorce papers, of course. And once that happens he’d go straight up to Rick and tell him what a fool he was for not saying he loved him sooner, because even if he did reject him, he had already said his goodbyes for the most part by now. But Rick wouldn’t. Of course he wouldn’t. And Cliff Booth would fuck that man’s brains out with the satisfying release of nine years worth of pent up frustration.

The announcement for coach boarding brought Cliff back to his senses, and he realized he was smiling at his little daydream. A daydream that was a fairytale, because he knew it would have to take something big and fantastical to happen to make it come true. Something that surely not even Hollywood would be capable of writing a script for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That’s where I’m leaving it since Cliff’s daydream is basically what what would have happened. I love these two pining idiots too much for my own good and boy do they live in a thick forest of pine.


End file.
